


Living In The Sky

by darkandstormyslash



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Brainwashing, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, Modern AU, No happy endings, Ramsay Bolton is His Own Warning, Rough Oral Sex, Serious Injuries, reek - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:46:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkandstormyslash/pseuds/darkandstormyslash
Summary: Written for the Thramsay KinkmemeRequest was for junkie Theon dependent on Ramsay for heroin.Result is a one-shot of a begging and desperate Reek, trying to get a hit.
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Reek
Comments: 11
Kudos: 27
Collections: Thramsay2020 Kinkmeme Event





	Living In The Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [p_totel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/p_totel/gifts).



“It’s just a blowjob, Reek.”

Ramsay sounds irritated, and Reek feels his insides churn at the tone. He wants to give Ramsay a blowjob. Even without the promise of the little bag of powder Ramsay’s dangling in front of him, he’d be happy to oblige. Making Ramsay happy, keeping Ramsay satisfied, it’s almost as good as the beautiful high he gets from Ramsay’s powder. It’s not that Reek isn’t willing, he is more than willing, always.

“Do you know how lucky you are, that I’m letting you have this shit for just a blowjob? You want to see what a  _ proper _ dealer would make you do?”

Reek closes his eyes, trying to grab a moment of calm. It’s hard to find calm here, in the ratty little flat Ramsay rents from his dad in the bad part of the city. There hasn’t been calm in Reek’s life for a very long time, only desperation and fear. Still he needs something,  _ anything _ to stop his teeth from chattering like a nervous teenage girl at her first orgy. He’s lost all control over his muscles, over the way his jaw snaps and clamps. If Ramsay’s cock goes into his mouth at the moment, it’s going to suffer some serious damage.

He just can’t  _ stop _ it. None of his limbs will obey him and, more importantly, they won’t obey Ramsay.

“I thought you’d appreciate that, Reek. The things I do to help you. It feels like you don’t appreciate me at all.”

Desperately, Reek shakes his head, hoping Ramsay can see it’s a proper shake and not just a shiver. “I don’t - Rams - please…”

“It’s like you don’t want it.” The little plastic bag vanishes into Ramsay’s pocket and Reek gives a sob. “It’s like you don’t want me.”

“I do!” It doesn’t take much muscle control to throw himself down at Ramsay’s feet, but somehow Reek still can’t manage it. Instead, he ends up sprawling himself inelegantly sideways, head bouncing off the stained grotty carpet as he tries to get his hands or legs underneath him. “I just can’t - I can’t give you a - you can fuck me, Ramsay, anything you want, please … whatever you want…”

Ramsay’s boot pushes under his shoulder, flipping him over like a tortoise, “And now you’re asking me for things.”

“I’m not! Ramsay!” Reek can feel himself crying now, but not the way Ramsay usually makes him cry. This isn’t inelegant bawling sobs, it’s just that his shivering is intensifying and his eyes have somehow started leaking. He can’t hate himself for being weak though, because Ramsay loves it. Even now he can see the stretched satisfied smile above him, and Reek sniffles and blinks at the tears. Does it matter how miserable he is, if Ramsay is happy?

His body still cares. His body still craves a way out, an escape from the constant cycle of misery. That’s why Ramsay has to punish it so frequently. One hand flops upwards, grabbing at Ramsay’s jeans. “P-please. I n-need…”

He feels, rather than sees, as Ramsay takes his hand. For some reason the world is very dark and blurred. Maybe his eyes have rolled up again? He can hear though, or maybe he can’t hear properly because Ramsay’s voice sounds almost gentle as Ramsay caresses the little stump where his ring-finger used to be. “Oh Reek. You don’t  _ need _ it. You want it. If you really  _ needed _ it, I think you’d be able to give me a blowjob.”

His stomach cramps up, his stupid disobedient body almost folding in half at the pain of it. “G-gag…” he breathes desperately. “O-ring. Hold it open. I just…” he can barely speak, his teeth are chattering so badly. “D-doesn’t Ben have a bridle?”

“You want me to force your mouth open?”

Reek jumps on the sudden spark of hope, “Yes! J-just force it open. Keep them apart. T-then you can fuck it as long as you want, please Ramsay… please can’t you…”

There’s a sudden stabbing pain in the hand Ramsay’s holding and Reek gives a shriek. “You’re always so selfish Reek. Always asking for things for yourself. I wanted  _ one _ thing from you, just one…”

The pain lances through him again and mercifully, miraculously, it stops his teeth from knocking together. Twisting around, Reek scrambles his non-injured hand at the front of Ramsay’s jeans, trying to show as much willingness as he can. He props his jaw as wide as it’ll stretch and leaves it there, hanging open, so Ramsay can see it’s safe.  _ Be quick! _ He wants to screech,  _ Be quick before it starts again! _

“You really are just …  _ desperate _ .” Ramsay breaths. Reek knows Ramsay likes it when he’s drugged, likes the soft compliant thing that Reek becomes. Every time Reek resurfaces he finds new injuries in interesting places, different forms of pain curling up from the inside of his ass. Ramsay doesn’t like him as much like this. It makes Ramsay jealous to share Reek with anything, even a drug he provides himself. “If you had to choose, Reek, between giving up me or giving up heroin, which one would you pick?”

Reek cringes. He knows what the correct answer is, but he also knows he can’t lie to Ramsay. “I-I-I …” and then his stupid fucking jaw starts chattering again and his voice dissolves away into sobs. He can’t do this. He’s letting Ramsay down. He’s a fuckup from start to finish, a useless junkie, he can’t even please  _ Ramsay _ …

There’s a sigh from above him. Strong hands reach down and wrap around his tightly clenched jaw. “Do you want me to help you Reek?”

“Yesssss…”

Ramsay’s fist knocks gently against the side of his face. “Are you sure? You don’t sound very grateful.”

Suddenly, Reek knows what’s going to happen. Knows in a horrifying shudder of fear and self-loathing. He wants to keep his jaw open - so Ramsay will dislocate it to keep his teeth apart. Worst of all, there’s a part of him that only feels intense relief that Ramsay has finally managed to think of a solution.

He tries to hang onto that part, to drag it to the surface. “Please, Ramsay. I am grateful, I-I’m very … thank you… f-for everything, not just this Rams, everything you’ve given me, I-I…”

The back of Ramsay’s fist knocks a few times against his jawline. “Shut up Reek. And keep still.”

He tries. He tries very hard. But his body is scrawny and weakened from the lack of food and general mistreatment. Ramsay’s fist lands right on the spot with a terrible  _ crunch _ of bone and Reek is knocked sideways to the floor. His stomach retches, multiple times, but Reek has had so much practice now in controlling his gag reflex that he manages to keep it down.

Throwing up over Ramsay’s cock is a  _ big _ no-no.

Ramsay reaches down and hauls him up with a disappointed sigh. “Look at this Reek. All I wanted was a blowjob, now instead I’m having to fuck a sloppy dislocated jaw with you drooling all over me. What fucking use are you,  _ really _ ?”

There’s no way he can answer. The stabbing lancing pain in his face prevents that, even if he could manage to string a sentence together. He’s not even a person now, not even a Reek, just a  _ thing _ of pain and horror waiting for Ramsay to finally stick a needle in him and make it all fade away.

Firm hands clasp at either side of his head, holding his throbbing jaw into place. “Try to keep breathing, Reek. I’m asking you to remain conscious, do you understand? That’s such a low fucking bar.”

Reek tries. He tries, and he tries with everything he has. Bitten-down nails dig into the broken skin of his hands, his toes curl against the rough weave of the carpet, in a way he’s thankful for the pain in his face which lances upwards into his skull and keeps him in a sort of hazy semi-consciousness as Ramsay’s cock fucks into the hollow sunken gap of his mouth. He almost chokes as Ramsay’s cum gushes out unexpectedly, the muscles in his throat trying to go from compliant and relaxed to frantically swallowing. He can’t remember the last time he had anything liquid in his mouth, anything that tasted so good. He swallows, and chokes, and gasps, the pain crunching hard in his jaw. He’s even less able to talk now, but he can still stagger forwards on his knees, pawing at the pocket of Ramsay’s jeans where the little plastic bag disappeared to.

“What the  _ hell _ are you doing Reek? Get your paws off me. After a blowjob that bad I’m surprised you can even look at me.”

“Y-you said…” Reek mumbles, wincing at the unexpected angle of his cheek cutting into his broken tooth, “You said you’d give it to me if I - if I sucked you off-”

“I said I’d give it to you.” Ramsay’s smile stretches wide again, his hand reaching forward to grab Reek by the hair, dragging him across the floor and dropping him into a corner. “I didn’t say when.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was kind of more Reek than Theon heh - but xtotel you are an amazing artist and one of my Thramsay heros so hope you enjoy!
> 
> Title is from Pulp's Mile End, famously used in the soundtrack for Trainspotting.


End file.
